Daniel listened silently. Finally, he nodded. “Let’s see whether the food in there is really as good as they say. I’d like to hear more about this side of my father. He never spoke to me about it.”
“Good, but let’s make a new start. Call me Hector. Forget the formalities. You never liked those, anyway. If you don’t like the food, you have my permission to beat up the cook.”
Russell held out his hand, and Daniel shook it.
He couldn’t change the past, and although he wasn’t happy with Russell’s lack of regret and absolute certainty that he had done the right thing, he had to admit that he would have done the same for any member of his team. The honesty of the older man, who abstained from any halfhearted apology, and his barely visible fear of rejection didn’t leave him cold.
The beef tenderloin was excellent, and the side dishes were perfect. Relaxed, with a glass of red wine in front of him, Daniel enjoyed the view of the Pacific and also the conversation with Russell. Through a number of detailed anecdotes, Russell had brought Daniel’s father back to life and made it possible for Daniel to discover an unknown side of him. Although the admiral only touched on the dangers and terrors of the jungle war in Vietnam peripherally, Daniel got an idea of the hell the men had gone through. He used a break in the conversation to end the topic, as it was obvious Russell had been struggling with the memories. “For the first time I see a point in earning more stripes,” Daniel said, looking around the private dining room.
“Does that mean you’ll think about it? As a team leader you’d be one step closer to admiralty.”
Smiling, Daniel waved it off. “There are more important things.”
“Like what, in your view?”
“Besides the cohesion of the team, our missions in particular. There’s no comparison with routine assignments in Iraq or Afghanistan. Honestly, one can get addicted to getting something done and taking the real bastards out of circulation.”
Russell appeared thoughtful while he filled their water glasses. “You’re lucky enough to be acting outside the constraints imposed by the Navy and the politicians. I’ve heard about how well the cooperation with the German police is going. Considering your successes, it’s incomprehensible that there are only three teams. It’s time to expand the concept.”
“That’s true, but logic has never been the Navy’s strong point.”
Russell raised his wine glass in silent agreement. After considering the bottle of California red wine, Daniel decided to leave it at one glass and be content with mineral water.
“I wouldn’t mind sitting here longer, but I only have a few more hours to spend with my sister before she leaves for a medical convention.”
“Have you already arranged a flight back? If not, I’ll have my office take care of it.”
Daniel accepted the offer, as it might save him from being placed on standby.
“What are you going to do with the rest of your time off? I’m sure you already know Hamburg inside and out.”
“I’ll see. Something always presents itself.”
Instead of meeting at Dirk’s place as usual, they had retreated to Mark’s study. Only the clicking of keyboards interrupted the ominous silence, which contrasted sharply with their usual jokey banter. Even when they were concentrating on preparing for a mission, mutual teasing was the rule. This time it was different. Frustrated, Mark closed his laptop and looked at Sven, who rubbed his tired eyes. “And?”
“Nothing. None of our cases would have provoked the attempted kidnapping. The only person we might have suspected is the guy Dirk arrested today—Rachow—and we can eliminate him. It just doesn’t fit for this act to be directed at Dirk. Only real insiders know his name and know of his participation. It’s almost impossible to find out his address.” Sven thought for a moment. “If this had something to do with our cases, I’d be the target, not Dirk. And in your case? The same is true, right?”
“Yes. Almost no one knows you three have worked with us. There are no indications that anyone has gotten access to Navy data, and in the final analysis it’s the same as in your case: my family or Jake’s would have been the target. Nicki was there, after all, but due to the age difference we can rule out the possibility that someone confused the two boys.”
Stephan stood up and stretched. “It’s about time you stopped looking for something you’re not going to find.”
“What do you mean?” With concern, Mark noticed how pale Stephan looked.
Supporting himself with one hand on the window frame, Stephan stood motionless and looked out at the dark garden. “You’re heading down the wrong track. Why? Because it’s easier? Or because you don’t want to see the obvious?” With a deep sigh, Stephan turned around and held his laptop so everyone could see the picture of Tim laughing and being lifted up by his father.
“Tim’s damned rascally and clever, and although sweet is not exactly the word we usually use, he is also extremely sweet. His charm, the laugh, and also the unusual combination of dark eyes and light hair. There are enough sick puppies out there who would pay a fortune for such a child. After all, Tim has talked about how frightened the driver was when he found out his father’s a policeman. If this had been directed against Dirk, they’d have known what they were taking on. Think of how many children disappear every year. Both boys and girls. Some cases result in headlines, others, particularly when the victims come from lower-class families, are mentioned only in snippets, if at all.”
Stephan nodded to Jake, who cleared his throat and took over. “Stephan’s right. We’re not talking about individual incidents here but about a flourishing economic sector. And people who can afford something like this don’t exactly belong to the poorest strata of our society but have enough money and in some cases even enough influence to avoid prosecution for their perverted desires. Do you want more details, or is that enough to start? Come on, people. I’d almost prefer an act of revenge myself, but I don’t believe this is one. What do you say, Sven?”
With closed eyes, Sven nodded. “You’ve just put words to what’s been going through my head for hours. But the idea is so sick I didn’t want to believe it.”
“Same here,” said Mark, thinking of the criminals they’d confronted in the past. Far too often they’d encountered criminals to whom human life meant nothing, and their families had already been in their crosshairs, but he refused to contemplate what would have happened to Tim. “I can live with terrorists or greedy criminals, but this . . . If this has occurred to us, it’ll occur to Dirk, too. I’m going to drive over to his place. I’ll send a text or call, if it makes sense for more of us to show up.”
Reluctantly, Sven nodded again, and Mark felt a huge sense of relief. The close friendship between Dirk and himself had already been the cause of tension between himself and the officer from the LKA, but this was the wrong time for petty jealousies.
Stephan’s face still looked pale. With unusually heavy movements, he pulled his cell phone from the breast pocket of his designer shirt. “I’ll get us an appointment with the department head who’s responsible. That’s at least one good thing about those horrible budget meetings. I know him well enough to arrange an informal conversation outside the constraints of protocol.” Unexpectedly, Stephan raised his head. “By the way, Mark, would it be a problem for you if Sandra Meinke started working in my department?”
“What?” Surprised by the change of topic, Mark had to think for a second to register whom Stephan meant. “No, of course not. Why, because she tried to arrest me twice? Apart from that she’s made a good impression.”
The hint of a smile could be seen on Stephan’s face. “Sven has already told me about your relationship. I’d love to have been there, and it’s not like she was completely wrong, right? But nothing’s certain yet—she’s coming to an interview tomorrow around noon.”
The man Stephan was calling finally answered. After apologizing for calling so late, Stephan explained what was going on and arranged a meeting for the
following day.
“One other thing, Stephan, have you heard anything from Daniel?”
Stephan looked shocked, and Mark couldn’t blame him. For good reasons, he kept his friendship with Dirk and Pat separate from his role as team leader, and he was mindful that Stephan and Doc were also close friends. For the first time he had crossed a boundary he’d set himself.
“Nothing since he met with Russell. But I don’t think you need to worry about your team breaking up. I’m sure he’ll stay here.”
Mark gave a small nod. He wasn’t happy with how well Stephan had guessed his own fears.
“Another thing, Mark.” Sven stood next to him and looked at him with an indefinable expression. “Probably this is clear to each of us, but I’d like to say it anyway: Dirk’s not going to let the perpetrator get away. Or does one of you seriously think that he’s just going to go back to business as usual? We all know the skills he possesses, but we also know his limits. We have to make sure he doesn’t lose control.”
These words were not without a certain comic effect, spoken as they were by a man whose fits of rage were legendary. “That’s exactly why I want to go over to his place, Sven. He’s obviously obsessing over this. But I don’t think he’s losing control.”
“No matter what you call it, we mean the same thing. But that’s exactly what I wanted to hear, Mac.” Sven laughed. “SEALs against a pedophile. That’ll be interesting.” Sven dropped onto his chair and gazed at the whiskey collection on the shelves.
“Leave some for me,” Mark said with a wink and closed the door behind him. SEALs on German territory, chasing a ring of pedophiles? Things were getting interesting.
Mark quietly opened the door of the house with his duplicate key. It was characteristic of their relationship that he first took a quick look into the bedroom on the upper floor to ensure that Alex and Tim were asleep cuddled up next to each other. The glow of light and loud music coming from Dirk’s study on the ground floor had already revealed where he would find his friend.
To avoid waking Dirk, he opened the door cautiously, although he doubted Dirk was asleep. Mark grimaced when he recognized the music. Dirk had surely not chosen Deep Purple’s “Child in Time” at random. Dirk had his eyes closed and his hands locked behind his head and didn’t react to Mark’s arrival.
Ian Gillan had hardly ended his screaming orgy and the last of Ritchie Blackmore’s guitar riffs had barely faded when the song began again, and after the insistent tones of the Hammond organ and Gillan’s complaint about the line between good and evil with which the child should be familiar, Mark had had enough. He bent down and reached for the remote control. The stereo fell silent, and Dirk’s eyes opened. His gaze was cloudy, and the normally brown irises showed a greenishness Mark knew all too well. He took a closer look at the whiskey on the coffee table. He had given Dirk the Talisker himself in appreciation of his help with the simulation of a mission involving freeing passengers from a hijacked airplane. The bottle was now half-gone.
“Let the song go on,” Dirk demanded, not surprised by Mark’s appearance.
“Forget it. Any more Ian Gillan and my eardrums will break. We’ll get the bastards. Together.”
Dirk stood up and took a heavy crystal glass from the shelf. He filled the glass and pushed it over to Mark. “Good. Thanks. Completely normal perverts, right? Nothing to do with the LKA or the US Navy. Am I right?”
“Yes.”
Dirk’s gaze became clearer. “What do you have?”
“Are you sure you want to hear this today?” Mark looked at the bottle.
“It doesn’t work. No matter how much I pour down my throat. It doesn’t drive away the pictures of what would have happened to Tim if . . . I don’t know. Tell me what happened. I had my hands full calming Alex down and distracting Tim and only caught half of it.”
Mark had only a vague notion of how much strength the last few hours had sapped from Dirk. “Alex and Laura had agreed to meet at the playground with the boys because both the school and the day care center were closed. While they were talking, at least two men were occupied with trimming hedges. Nicki has said he and Tim played with each other at first. Then they got mad at each other. Nicki told Tim he had already fired my gun and called him a baby. Tim was insulted and ran away and was called over by one of the supposed gardeners. The guy asked him about the argument and promised to show him a pistol and let him fire it. Nicki heard this and wanted to keep him from going along with it. When Tim proved to be stubborn, Nicki ran to Alex. Alex came immediately but only arrived in time to see a man trying to pull Tim into a van. The vehicle drove off, and Tim lay on the road, unconscious. Sven also learned the following from your son and Maria: Tim actually saw a gun and said that his father’s was bigger. The man then asked why his father had a gun, and Tim answered that his father was a police officer with a special unit. The man in the front passenger seat had a ‘smelly cloth’ and tried to hold him. At that point Tim struck him on the wrist and kicked him in the shin. The driver screamed that the whole thing had gone wrong and that Kalle should let him go.”
“Kalle? That’s more a category than a name.” Dirk laughed. “Did you know Alex and I argued about guns this morning? I wanted to give Tim a reasonable explanation about the Sig, so this crap would lose its fascination. If these bastards hadn’t been afraid of abducting the son of a police officer, we’d have never heard from Tim again, nor found out what happened to him. And I’m not a ‘police officer with a special unit’ at all. Damn it, what would have happened if Tim had said ‘accountant’? What kind of world are we living in?”
“Your son’s upstairs sleeping. That’s the important thing, Dirk. We already know the world can be lousy. We’re not going to eliminate the problem, but we can take on those who are responsible.”
When Dirk made a move to refill his glass, Mark restrained him. “Don’t you think that’s enough for today?” When Dirk tried to resist, Mark placed the bottle on the desk, out of Dirk’s reach. “Your family needs you, and tomorrow you need to convince Tannhäuser to support us. It’d be pretty silly if we were to work completely without a net, and you’re hardly going to convince him if you allow your cover to become a reality. By the way, damned good work.”
The praise resulted in a grimace that with a great deal of goodwill could be interpreted as a grin. “Thanks for sending Fox and Tom over. Had those two not been here I’d have hardly started in on the Talisker, alarm system or not.”
With a furrowed brow, Mark took a sip. “If you noticed those two were out there, I’ll have to have a talk with them,” he said and placed a plastic container on the table. “Here, with greetings from my sister. She was worried you wouldn’t eat a proper meal today.”
“Lisa?”
Dirk’s fears were unmistakable and caused Mark to smile. They had all suffered because of his sister’s vegetarian experiments, especially her husband, Jake. “No, from Shara. Her famous goulash.”
“Well, all right, then . . .” Dirk did not take the time to get silverware from the kitchen but took the spoon Mark held out to him. Dirk ate the lukewarm food directly out of the container. Mark saw this as a sign that Dirk had himself under control for the most part. When Dirk had finished, he looked at Mark. Once again the greenish coloring of his irises was unmistakable. “No matter what Tannhäuser wants, I’m going to find the bastards and take them out. One way or another.”
Mark withstood the inquisitive look, which held an unspoken question. “We’ll take care of it together.”
CHAPTER 5
Six thirty in the morning and Sandra was ready to write the day off as a complete waste. First, not a single drop of hot water had come out of the showerhead, then the refrigerator had given up the ghost, the milk smelled sour and had, in fact, gone sour, and Sandra could only get black coffee down with difficulty. After a few sips she felt her stomach revolting against the unaccustomed bitterness of the beverage. But all this was nothing compared to the warnings on her lapto
p. Her knowledge of computers was sufficient for her to be able to understand the contents, and it gnawed at her that she had ignored her brother’s urgent warning. She had forgotten to hide her IP address on one occasion, and now someone had tried to access her computer. While this attempt hadn’t been successful, the right contacts with her Internet provider would make it possible for the person in question to find out her name, phone number, and address. She sipped her coffee. How likely was it that someone had the necessary contacts?
She let out an ironic snort; she wasn’t going to fool herself. If necessary, a fifty-euro bill would be sufficient to get the information from one of any number of employees at the Internet service provider. She took a screenshot of the warning so she’d be able to send it to her brother later with a well-formulated confession of her lack of diligence. She could already imagine the lecture this would provoke. No matter how tired and irritated she’d been, Martin, as an IT specialist working for the BKA, the Federal Office of Criminal Investigation, would have no sympathy for her. She loved her brother, but his scrupulous sense of order could drive her to distraction. A thought occurred to her. Almost every day, she and Martin sent each other short, affectionate e-mails, and once a week she got a longer message, usually containing witty stories about his daily work with police computers or what his beloved German shepherd, Kaspar, had been doing.
With a furrowed brow, she checked her in-box and gasped when she discovered not only a message from her brother but also one from Stephan Reimers. Her hand froze over the keyboard. Why were the e-mails marked as read? A flaw in her e-mail program? Or had someone obtained access to her laptop? Cursing, she opened the message from the department head with her pulse racing. Instead of the expected form rejection, the brief message indicated that he would be pleased if she had time for a personal interview today around noon. She read the e-mail three times in disbelief. She still had a good five hours before the appointment and was certainly not going to waste them at her desk.
Nemesis: Innocence Sold Page 5
